Time Rebound

by Cathy Peper

  He picked up speed on the cleared path and it wasn’t long until the trail grew wider and more traveled. He was getting close to something. Voices alerted him to the presence of others long before they would have heard his nearly silent stride.

  He wasn’t alarmed at first. He continued towards the sound, already formulating a story in his head about how he had gotten lost, although how one could get lost on such clearly marked trails eluded him. The other walkers should be able to point him in the direction of the nearest settlement.

  But the hair rose on the back of his neck as the tone of the discourse changed. There were at least three people, two men, and a woman. But the happy chatter had been replaced by increasing anxiety on the part of the woman.

  “I think we’ve come far enough,” she said, her voice high and strained. “Let’s head back and grill some steaks.”

  “I’m not hungry for food,” one of the men said. “Though I might be after.”

  The other man laughed, but without humor. “Good one, Kev.”

  “Hey guys, this isn’t funny. You’re starting to scare me,” the woman said.

  Bryce melted into the woods and drew closer. From the cover of a tree, he watched them.

  “You know what we want and you knew it when you came hiking with us,” Kev said. He was taller and broader than the other man, bigger than Bryce, but some of his bulk was fat, where Bryce carried little but lean muscle. Still, Kev would have the advantage in a fight.

  “No,” the woman said her voice shaking. “You can’t do this. You’ll go to jail!”

  “Only if they catch us,” the smaller man said. He had a small scar on the left side of his face shaped like a crescent. “We’ll be long gone before you make your way back to camp.”

  At that, the woman turned and bolted back down the path. Scar Man seemed to have anticipated this move for he took off after her, fast as a whippet. He caught her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around.

  She lashed out, smacking him along the side of his face. He howled but didn’t let go.

  “Give me a hand!”

  Kev lumbered up and slugged the girl. She screamed, dropping to the ground and holding her face. Blood dribbled out the side of her mouth.

  “Please…” her words were garbled and Bryce wondered whether she had lost a few teeth. Kev had hit her hard, but still with only a fraction of his strength. She was sobbing and didn’t seem to have much fight left in her.

  “Hold her down,” Kev said, unfastening his belt.

  Scar Man grabbed the girl by the shoulders and forced her flat. “How come I never get to go first?”

  Kev ignored his partner, working at the strange blue breeches that everyone in the future, men and woman alike, seemed to wear. He knelt over the woman and tore at her clothes, yanking her breeches down until they caught around her ankles. She sobbed, seemingly resigned to her fate.

  She was nothing to Bryce. He didn’t know her or anyone else in this time period. His father would tell him to walk away. It was two against one and why should he risk his own life for a stranger? But the thought of leaving her to be raped made him sick. He didn’t mind bending or even breaking the law, when necessary, but in his heart, he considered himself an honorable man. Deep inside, he regretted how he had treated Victoria. He should never have sent Dalton after her to steal the necklace. He should have been man enough to do his own dirty work. As it was, when he’d found himself unable to activate the time travel device, he’d ended up kidnapping her anyway.

  The entire episode shamed him, but it had gotten him to this century—a case of the ends justifying the means. Maybe helping this woman might go some small way to balancing the scales for his actions to Victoria.

  Still, it wouldn’t help anyone to get himself killed. He needed to optimize his chance of success. He had his gun. He could shoot one of them, preferably the big guy. But shooting a man in the back, even as disgusting an example as Kev, also went against his principles. Sighing, he slipped his pack off and drew his knife.

  Kev dropped to his knees and Bryce sprang into action. He went in low and hard, knocking Kev off his victim and slamming his head into the ground. Kev grunted, but he was far from subdued. He swung his meaty fist at Bryce, making contact although Bryce moved quick enough to avoid most of the force of a blow that would have knocked his head half off.

  It still hurt like hell, however, and his vision blurred. Kev threw him off and lurched to his feet. “Didn’t know about pretty boy here.”

  The girl gaped at them, as surprised as her attacker.

  “Don’t let her get away. Shouldn’t take me but a minute to wipe this guy out.”

  Now it was time for the gun. Bryce leveled it at Kev’s chest. “Not another step.”

  Kev’s eyes narrowed, but he stilled and raised his hands.

  “Let the girl go or I shoot your friend here,” Bryce said.

  “Kev?” Scar Man sounded uncertain.

  “Do what he says.”

  Bryce never took his eyes off Kev, but he heard the girl stumble to her feet and take off running down the trail.

  “Now what you gonna do? Shoot me?”

  “If I have to.” The world would no doubt be better off without Kev, but Bryce himself would then come under scrutiny, something he wished to avoid. If it wasn’t for the girl, Bryce could have killed them both, but the girl would tell someone what happened and then the police would get involved.

  “What kind of gun is that anyway? It ain’t real, Kev. I never seen no gun like that before,” Scar Man said.

  “I assure you it’s real. Do I have to put a bullet in Kev to prove it? Now I want the two of you to head up the trail and disappear. I’ll be watching and if you come after me or the girl, I’ll kill you both.”

  Wait a minute, if you think we’re gonna just—”

  “Reggie, do as the man says.”

  Kev appeared to not only have a larger body but a larger brain as well. Keeping his hands in sight, he walked slowly around Bryce, never getting too close.

  Grumbling, Reggie followed, but he didn’t stay as far away as his buddy. Bryce, with most of his attention directed towards Kev, barely noticed the smaller man inching closer. Sensing danger, at the last second he whirled to face his other attacker. Reggie rushed him, but Bryce hadn’t spent years surviving similar skirmishes along the Mississippi River for nothing. His reflexes were lightning fast and he fired at Kev even as his arm came down to divert Reggie’s knife.

  The blade missed its target but sliced along Bryce’s side. He hissed at the scorching burn and drew his own knife, crouching to face his assailant. The bullet had struck Kev and the larger man was down, moaning in pain.

  “Idiot,” Kev said, his breath ragged and voice strained. “He was going to let us go. Now finish him off and get me to a hospital.”

  “Gladly.” Reggie twirled his knife and came at Bryce again. But this time he had Bryce’s full attention and his blade cut harmlessly through the air as Bryce danced out of reach. “I’m gonna enjoy slicing you up.”

  Reggie’s words were easier said than done, however. Bryce could tell the man had some experience with knife fighting and he moved quickly, but Bryce found him easy to read. He anticipated where Reggie would strike and darted out of harm’s way again and again.

  “Hurry up,” Kev moaned. “I’m gonna die. You gotta get me to the hospital.”

  “Jerk won’t hold still,” Reggie panted, his face red. He jabbed again, wildly this time and Bryce not only easily evaded him but came in on the man’s unprotected side and sunk his own blade into Reggie’s flank. Reggie’s eyes grew wide, an unearthly howl erupted from his mouth and he dropped his weapon.

  Bryce pulled the knife free and Reggie sunk to the ground, clutching his side. “Kev, I’m done for,” he moaned.

  But Kev wasn’t there. While the other two were fighting he must have dragged himself into the woods.

  Bryce grabbed a handful of dry leaves and wiped his blade clean. “I sh
ould do the world a favor and put you out of your misery, but I won’t. Not this time. I won’t be so forgiving if we should meet up again.”

  Bryce grabbed his backpack and started down the trail. His face throbbed and his side burned like fire. His shirt was drenched in blood and his head spun. Reggie had done more than nick him. He hoped he was close to help because he wasn’t sure how far he could go before passing out.

  He didn’t think Kev or Reggie were critically wounded, although either might die if they didn’t receive medical attention, and the same went for him. He focused on keeping one foot in front of the other, each step bringing him closer to civilization. After what seemed like hours, but was probably no more than thirty minutes, he reached the end of the trail and stumbled into an open area filled with cars.

  “That’s him,” a girl shouted. “That’s the man who saved me!”

  A group of people rushed up to him as he sank to his knees. His vision blurred and he couldn’t be sure how many there were. “Help me.”

  “Don’t worry,” a man said. “An ambulance is on its way.”

  Someone placed a blanket over him and he drifted in and out of consciousness until a screeching noise brought him back to full awareness. A large boxy car with red lights flashing overhead and an infernal noise projecting from it flew into the clearing and came to an abrupt halt. A handful of people jumped from the car and headed towards the girl he had rescued.

  “We’ve got another victim over here,” someone shouted and one of the uniformed men diverted towards Bryce.

  “I think he was stabbed. He lost a lot of blood.”

  The uniformed man lifted Bryce’s shirt and ran practiced hands over his abdomen, pressing lightly on the wound. Bryce moaned despite himself.

  “You’re going to be okay, mister,” the man said. “We’ll get you to the hospital and the docs will stitch you up.”

  Bryce hoped the man was telling the truth and not just soothing him. Still, he didn’t think the wound was lethal and surely they had better medical care, in the future. They put him on a stretcher and loaded him into the boxy car along with the girl who was on a separate stretcher.

  What had the man called it? An ambulance, Bryce recalled. A nurse shoved a needle into his arm and injected some sort of fluid. Bryce hoped she knew what she was doing.

  “You saved me,” the girl said, her eyes wide. “I didn’t think there were any heroes left in the world.”

  Bryce drifted into unconsciousness. But I’m not from this world.

  Chapter 3

  Bryce usually avoided going to the doctor unless he was very ill. He disliked being bled and some of the medications he was given made him feel worse rather than better. Things were very different in the future. Everything was very clean for starters. While he appreciated this, having always been a bit fastidious, he couldn’t understand why they went to such great lengths. A little dirt never hurt anyone.

  The majority of the doctors, nurses, and assistants who cared for him were kind, although some were indifferent. This was similar to his experiences in his own time. It had always seemed to him that compassionate people tended to be drawn to the medical profession.

  But the most overwhelming difference was the use of anesthesia. When they told him he needed surgery to stitch his wound, he’d considered leaving the hospital, for in his time many did not survive the agony of going under the knife. He’d prefer to take his chances on healing his wound himself, but with no place to stay and no one to care for him, his odds of survival were slim. When a tall, thin man had explained to him that he would be put to sleep for the procedure, he didn’t really believe him. How could anyone sleep through the pain of being cut? But to his surprise, he’d awoken after the surgery in a comfortable bed with no memory of how he’d gotten there. He still wore the ridiculous open backed, long-tailed shirt he’d been given after they removed his blood-soaked shirt and breeches and when he lifted it to peer at his wound, he saw it was already bandaged. The area was sore to the touch and it hurt to move, but he wasn’t in nearly as much pain as he had expected.

  He examined his surroundings with curiosity. He was alone in the room although there were two beds. A window graced one wall, but the light that came in was filtered by some sort of slatted covering. A needle was stuck in his arm and attached to it was a long clear tube going up to a bag filled with a clear liquid. He guessed they were putting the liquid into his body and he wished he knew what it was, but it appeared harmless. Patches were taped to his chest and they also had wires going to various devices that beeped and hummed. He wondered what their purpose was. The rails on the bed amused him. Did they think him a child who would fall out? Or were they put there to contain him? He remembered seeing the girl he had rescued in the ambulance. She had told everyone he had saved her. They didn’t mistake him for one of the attackers, did they?

  He considered removing the needle from his arm and leaving the hospital, but he didn’t know what they had done with his clothes and there was no way he could survive camping out in winter in the embarrassing garment he now wore. Plus, he was still weak. He hoped they would feed him soon.

  The door to his room opened and a woman wearing a shirt and matching pair of trousers in a dark blue material came into the room.

  “You’re awake,” she said cheerfully, as if this were a great accomplishment. She had light brown skin and looked part black, but surely they didn’t have slaves working in the hospital. Perhaps she was a free woman of color.

  “Hungry, too. I need something to eat.”

  The woman’s smile slipped at his surly tone. “Let me check your chart.” She paused for a moment, studying the clipboard. “The doctor says the surgery went well and you have no dietary restrictions. They’ll be bringing breakfast around soon.”

  “Thanks.” He picked at his sheet with his fingers. “How long will I be staying here?” He had a feeling that what remained of his four hundred dollars would be eaten up quickly by this place.

  The doctor wants to keep you one more day, but he will release you tomorrow if you have someone to take care of you at home.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Well, they might send you to a nursing home for a few days or just have a visiting nurse check up on you.” She came over and stuck a tube under his tongue which Bryce immediately spit out.

  “Come on, you need to cooperate.” She glanced down at his chart. “Hey, they have you down as a John Doe. Your paperwork says you were unconscious when they brought you in and there was no one to vouch for your identity.”

  Bryce hesitated. He had told Hitchcock his real name, but he didn’t want to be in any trouble if either of the men he had fought with died. He also didn’t want to run into debt. “Bob Rivers.”

  “Well, Bob, I need to get your vitals, so keep the thermometer under your tongue.” She stuck the tube back in his mouth and wrapped a piece of black material around his arm. She squeezed a ball attached to the material and to his surprise, it tightened around his arm. She mumbled some numbers at him as she removed the cuff and pulled the thermometer out of his mouth. “A slight fever, but overall you seem to be doing well.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “Good.” She tilted her head to one side. “You’re the guy that saved that woman from being raped, aren’t you? Your story is all over the news. The press will probably want to interview you. The police, too.”

  “Whatever for?” Bryce asked, horrified.

  “Well, the police will want information about the assailants. Witnesses claim they heard a gunshot, so if you wounded one of them, they might seek medical attention.”

  “I shot one of them and stabbed the other.”

  The nurse’s eyes widened and she took a step backward. “It was brave of you to take them on when you were outnumbered.”

  “What else was I to do? Watch them attack a defenseless woman right before my eyes?”

  “A lot of people wouldn’t have interfered. Even those that wanted to help
might have done no more than call nine-one-one.”

  Bryce frowned, imagining himself screaming numbers into the wind. Nine-one-one must be code for something else he didn’t understand in this world.

  “Actually, it says here on your chart that they didn’t find a cell phone on you, so they couldn’t call anyone. Is there someone we should notify?”

  No one in this time. No one really from his past life either. Ari and his mother were gone. He and his father had never been close. The old man would be sorry to lose his heir, but considering the acrimonious way they had parted, he might not care about losing his son. Bryce stifled an unexpected pang of guilt. While he was making preparations for traveling to the future, he should have sent his father a letter. But what would he have said? If he told his dad he was planning on going to the future, his father would think he had gone crazy. Or he’d want in on the action. Bryce smiled at that. His father had never been one to let an opportunity pass.

  “No, my parents have been dead for years and I am an only child.”

  “No wife or girlfriend?”

  Bryce just shook his head. He couldn’t talk about Ari. Thinking of her still made him want to smash something. Or someone.

  He heard some commotion in the hall and the welcome smell of hot food drifted into the room. “Sounds like they’ll be feeding you soon. I’m Abbie, by the way, and I’ll be on day shift today. The doctor will be in to see you sometime this morning.”

  Bryce nodded. Abbie left and moments later a young woman with short blond hair brought in a tray of eggs, bacon, and toast. She set it on the table beside his bed.

  “Would you like orange juice or coffee?”